Closing Circles
by Psyched
Summary: GS. "Life, Sara thought warmly, was pretty good right now. It would amaze her how much would change in the next few days." COMPLETE
1. Part 1

These characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker and many other people who are making a profit from them.  I don't happen to be one of them.  No copyright infringement is intended.  In fact, AZ and company should be pleased, as imitation is the highest form of flattery.

Thanks, as always, to my betas Alison and Margaret, without whom I'm not sure I would have tried my hand at a WIP (when it was one).  Their wisdom also convinced me to have the entire fic completed before I began posting it – definitely a smart move considering how long this has taken.  You two are the best!

~*~*~

"Map?"

"Check."

"Full tank of gas?"

"Check."

"Bags packed and in the trunk?"

"Check"

"Cell phones and pagers left on the kitchen counter?"

Grissom, seated behind the wheel of his Mercedes, grinned and winked at Sara in the passenger side.  "Double check."

Returning his grin with a full-fledged smile, she declared, "Then let's hit the road."

Grissom turned on the ignition, put the car in gear, and took Sara's hand in his.  Kissing the back of it as he pulled away from the curb, he commented, "I'm glad you talked me into this."

Sara laughed.  "It's about time.  I can't believe you were so worried about it."

"It's not that I didn't want to go away with you, you know.  It's just that I wasn't exactly comfortable lying about why I was taking the time off."

"Oh, like you haven't told a single un-truth about your actions in the past seven months?"  She still couldn't believe it had been that long since the wall that surrounded Grissom's heart finally crumbled and let her in.  

"Not really.  People gave up asking me what I do with my days off a long time ago."

"That's because no one wants to hear about the mating cycles of your cockroaches, hon."

He glanced quickly at her, "You know, if you'd have just let me take the kids along on this little trip, it would've saved me the trauma of having to lie to anyone."

"Do not even _try_ that argument again, buster."  Grissom had attempted to get Sara to agree to take his hissing cockroaches – she shuddered when he referred to them as "the kids" – with them on their visit to the vineyards in Pahrump.  He wanted to feel less guilty about telling their coworkers that he was taking the weekend off for a roach race out of state.

"Doesn't it bother you, lying to everyone about why you needed the time off?"  Sara's story was that she was going to a family function in California.

"Nope, not a bit," she responded without a second thought.  "Not if you're the reward."  She flashed him a wicked little grin.  "Besides, people will believe what they want to believe regardless of what I do or don't tell them.  You should have learned _that lesson by now, Gil."_

Even after seven months, it still struck him when she called him by his first name.  She did not use it most of the time, afraid to get too much into the habit that she might slip at work.  She had continued to call him "Gris" or "Grissom" for several weeks after they began dating.  It was not until the first time they made love that he realized he wanted to hear how his given name sounded on her lips.  When he asked her to say it, she chuckled lightly, but complied.  To this day, whenever she called him "Gil" he was brought back to that moment in time.  Giving himself a few seconds to savor the rush of warmth that suffused him, he eventually replied to her dig.  "Touché.  Which is why I relented and allowed you to drag me to some vineyard in Pahrump."

Not satisfied, Sara wanted to hear him say the rest. "And the Pahrump Valley Winery is…"

Grissom sighed.  "Where you were, _alone_, the time I called you in from your night off and then gave you the cold shoulder because I'd thought you were there with… someone."  He said this like a student reciting a rule about which he was tired of being quizzed.

"Good boy," she replied, squeezing his hand and reaching over to kiss his cheek.  "Besides, _you picked this weekend because the winery is having its annual jazz festival.  Oh, that reminds me, did you pack your older dress shoes?  You said the new ones weren't comfortable the last time we went dancing."_

"Check, Mom."  

Dancing was an activity he never would have guessed Sara would like, much less know how to do.  Grissom had always taken pleasure in partner dancing, particularly the smooth ballroom dances.  His mother, even after having gone deaf, taught him many of these dances in their living room, music blaring so she could feel the beat.  He believed she wanted to teach him to dance because it was something any hearing mother could do.  Sara, on the other hand, was forced to learn by friends of her parents who could not afford to pay for a stay at the B & B.  Willing to take their payment in barter, her parents thought it would be nice to have Sara and her brother be proficient in the "real" dancing they themselves had shunned in their hippie days.  Her favorite style was the Lindy Hop, and she also knew the Jitterbug, the Foxtrot, and the Waltz.  Unfortunately, she drew the line at letting Grissom teach her how to Tango unless he agreed to take Salsa lessons with her.  While they were no Fred and Ginger, they enjoyed spending time in each other's arms.

"Smart-ass."  With this, she declared the conversation over by turning on the stereo.  Since they were in Grissom's car and he was driving, he got to select the music.  He tended to prefer the classics: either classic rock or classical music.  She hit the Play button to see what CD he had been listening to last.  As the first notes of Edvard Grieg's "Morning" from _Peer Gynt_ trickled out of the speakers, Sara glanced at Grissom.  Seeing him nod his approval, she sat back, drew their hands over to rest on her thigh, and closed her eyes to get lost in the soothing sounds.

Exiting I-15 at the Blue Diamond Road ramp, Grissom prepared to set the cruise control.  This road would turn into Route 160, which they would follow west over the Spring Mountains and into the Pahrump Valley.  Stealing a look at Sara, he knew she would be asleep soon.  When shift had ended this morning, she had to rush home to pack.  Knowing Sara, she probably also cleaned the apartment, checked her e-mail, and surfed the 'net for a while before arriving at Grissom's place early that afternoon.  Grissom, who had not worked the overtime that Sara had in the past few days, was already packed and spent several hours sleeping before they left Vegas.

It was rare that he had the opportunity to watch her sleep.  Whenever they shared a bed, he often dropped off before she did, and she almost always woke first.  He had known that she did not require much sleep even before they became involved.  It astonished him, however, the things he had learned about Sara Sidle since they'd been together.  Like knowing how to dance.  And cook.  Not only did she like to cook, but she was actually very capable in the kitchen, particularly with breakfast foods.  She had told him that having grown up in the B & B, it was inevitable that she would learn how to cook.  The problem, she later explained, was that she hated cooking just for herself because it reminded her that she was alone.  Needless to say, cooking was now something they enjoyed together frequently.

As the next track on his "Best of Grieg" CD began, Grissom could not help but smile.  Looking at Sara, he noticed a small grin on her lips as well.  It was "Wedding Day at Troldhaugen," a piano piece.  One day at his condo, Sara was perusing Grissom's music collection and came across this CD.  Putting it in and immediately skipping to this track, she announced, "I can play this."

He had regarded her suspiciously, waiting for the rest of the joke.  When it did not come, he decided to play along.  "Of course you can.  You just did.  I play it all the time myself… just put the CD in and press Play."

"Ha.  Very funny, Gris.  No really, I can play this on the piano.  Or at least I used to be able to.  It's been a while since I've practiced it."

"Uh huh.  But let me guess, after the damage to your hand in the explosion, you couldn't play anymore."  For some reason, Grissom refused to believe she could play the piano well enough to perform a complicated Grieg piece.  By now, he knew how she learned to dance, and he should have suspected that a similar arrangement earned her several years of piano lessons.  Ultimately, Sara finagled him into a wager about it and then promptly dragged him to a piano and organ store in the mall.  There, she impressed Grissom with her rusty but recognizable rendition of Grieg.  After finishing, she just as quickly drove them back to his place, where she demanded his payment on their bet.  It turned out to be one of the more fun and energetic times he had ever spent in bed.

~*~*~

Less than two hours later, they had checked into the Best Western in Pahrump and were on their way to the winery.  Deciding where to stay had been an easy task, as this was the only hotel in town.  Given the choice, Grissom would have preferred something a little fancier for his and Sara's first weekend away together.  He knew Sara did not mind, however, having said she would sleep in a hogan in the desert as long she got out of Vegas with him.

"So tell me why we're going to the vineyard now, when the jazz band doesn't start to play until seven?  Didn't you say we were going to do the tour tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but you can walk around the vineyard without being on the tour, and there are some things I wanted to see.  Things I didn't get to see last time I was here because I was called back to work."  She gave him a pointed but loving look.  "They have Nevada's only registered time capsule here, you know."  After a few moments she added, "Why?  Something you'd rather be doing?"

"I don't know.  I'm sure we could figure out something."  He winked at her.

"Yeah, the pools at the hotel looked nice.  Maybe we could take a dip if we have time before the festival begins.  I'd even be willing to soak in the hot tub if you really want to."

"That's not exactly what I had in mind."

"No?" Sara asked, feigning ignorance.  "You want to go golfing instead?  Not exactly a 'sport' I think I'd enjoy, but if you're up for it, I guess I can be too."

"You don't think you'd like golf?  Lot of physics to consider in that game."  Grissom didn't care for the game himself, but wondered now if Sara would find the mechanics of it interesting.

"Nah.  If I want physics fun, I play pool.  Now there's a thought!  Maybe we can find the local pool hall and - "

"I was thinking more along the lines of a nap."

"A nap?  Or a _nap_?"  They could never just lie in bed together without it getting physical.

"That'll probably depend on how much you wear me out this afternoon at the winery."  He sent a knowing glance at her.

"Then I guess this will be a short visit."  She responded with a smile.

Pulling into the parking lot of the vineyard a few minutes later, Grissom found a space but did not turn off the ignition.  Eyebrows raised, he asked, "You want to head back to the hotel?"

Sara laughed.  "We're here now, Gris.  We may as well make the best of it.  We'll be quick, though.  I promise."

Creeping his fingers gently up her arm, he lowered his voice.  "Sure you don't want to reconsider?"

Sara opened the car door to escape his roving hand before she changed her mind.  "Positive.  Gil Grissom, get a hold of yourself!  You're acting like a horny teenager," she teased.

"You make me feel like one," he grumbled as he exited the car and walked around it to meet her.

"Oh, so now this is _my_ fault?"  She took his hand and started leading them toward the entrance.

Not satisfied merely holding hands, Grissom drew Sara closer and tucked his arm around her waist.  He nestled his hand under her shirt where it met the top of her jeans, and rubbed her skin absently.  "Well, you did seduce me.  Coming to my office with your hand all bandaged, looking beautiful, asking me to dinner to 'see what happens,' telling me you knew what to do." 

"You said no!"

"Like that was going to stop you."  In truth, it had.  Sara had delivered her warning about it being too late by the time he figured out what to do about "this," and left it at that.  Grissom had his surgery a short while later, and thought a great deal about Sara and her ultimatum during the week he stayed home to recuperate.  He decided that at a minimum, he needed to repair their friendship and get their working relationship back on an even keel.  When he was sure he had regained his equilibrium at work, he began pairing them together again, letting her take the lead on several cases.  When he attempted to revive their long-missed manner of interacting – which bordered on flirting at times – Sara did not respond at first, choosing instead to keep things more formal.  With consistent effort, he wore her down, and she eventually returned the banter.  

A few months later, happy that they finally seemed to have restored the balance to their professional relationship and hopeful that their friendship was on the mend, Grissom realized there had been a major flaw in his plan.  The more comfortable he became around Sara, the more time he wanted to spend with her, the more he wanted to touch her, kiss her.  Another several weeks passed before Grissom asked Sara to breakfast at his place in order to reveal his feelings to her.  He told her he would be willing to forsake any thought of a romantic relationship with her if he was indeed "too late."  They discussed the subject at length, dissecting it as scientists should, examining each aspect with logical and objective eyes.  When that failed to yield a clear-cut solution, they let their hearts decide.  Two days later they went on their first date.

"You just keep telling yourself that, Gris," she kidded.  "Maybe one day you'll get over the guilt of having an 'inappropriate relationship' with a subordinate."  Though she said it lightly, Sara knew this was an issue he still struggled with at times.  Grissom did what he could at work to keep any appearances of impropriety at a minimum.  He had begun keeping track of whom he partnered together and rotated the teams as regularly as possible; he had not worked with Sara any more than any one else had since they started dating.  They also kept their behavior strictly professional at work.  There were no furtive touches even when they thought they were alone, no longing glances.  They kept their interactions as normal as possible, the rule of thumb being to act is if each was just another CSI.  To the best of their knowledge, Catherine, Warrick, Nick, and Brass were none the wiser. 

"I've never regretted it, though," he whispered in her ear.

Ten minutes later they found themselves in a gazebo in the middle of the winery's rose garden.  Surrounding the structure were glorious displays of over a dozen varieties of roses.  Beyond that, they could survey the acres of vineyard that filled the valley.  Looking east, the view was further captivated by the Spring Mountains.  Sara leaned against the railing of the gazebo, and Grissom wrapped his arms around her from behind.  They stood silently for a while, absorbing the view, enjoying the peace.  Their attention was drawn occasionally by a tour group going by further down the path:  tourists with their kids and video cameras, wine enthusiasts, other couples holding hands and taking in the sights.  

Grissom spoke first.  "Thank-you for bringing me here.  It really is beautiful."

"And I know how much you appreciate beauty."  He could hear the playfulness in her voice.

"It pales in comparison to you, though."

"Such a smooth talker."

He began nibbling on her ear.  "I mean it."

Turning in his arms, Sara backed away some and hoisted herself up so she could sit on the railing.  She rested her arms on his shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair at the back of his head. Grissom positioned himself between her legs and touched his forehead to hers.  His hands fell to her waist.  "I didn't come up here last time."  She spoke so quietly he barely heard her.

He chuckled.  "I know, because your mean old boss made you - "

"No," she interrupted him.  She pulled her head back so she could look him in the eyes.  "I wouldn't have come even if I'd had the chance.  Every time I passed it, I could see couples wrapped up in the romance of it.  I wouldn't have wanted to be in here alone.  But I made a promise to myself that night that if I ever came here again, it would be with someone I loved.  I wanted to come back here with you, Gil.  I came here in the first place because of you, because you told me to find some distractions, to get a life.  I think I realized then that I didn't want to do any of those things without you."  She gently kissed his lips.  "So thank you, for coming here with me, for closing this circle with me."

"Sara…"  He did not know what to say.  Tears threatened to overflow.  He had had no idea what this trip meant to her, to this particular place.  He remembered that after she had solved the case, she said that he was confusing her, by telling her to get a life and then seeming to punish her for it.  Then, as now, he was completely overwhelmed by his feelings for her.  Saying "I love you" would seem to minimize the significance of the moment.

She smiled.  She could see the love in his eyes and knew it was reflected in her own.  There had been times like this in their relationship before, when the emotions were so strong that putting a name to them could simply not do them justice.  "It's okay…I know."  She pulled him to her and they held each other as the intensity of the feelings subsided.

They decided to skip the time capsule and head back to the hotel.

~*~*~

At 7:05 that evening, Grissom and Sara returned to the winery for the jazz festival and dinner-dance.  The path leading to the tented area where dinner would be served was lit with Chinese lanterns.  The exterior of the Pahrump Valley Winery Restaurant, the tent, the gazebo, and most of the trees they could see were decorated with miniature white lights.  Adjacent to the dining area was the outdoor amphitheater, from which they could already hear the band playing.  

"Wow.  This looks fantastic!"  Sara wore a black slip dress with a subtle red floral pattern.  The night was still warm enough that a matching sweater hung over her arm.  Prepared to dance the night away, she had on her Capezio shoes, which, with their two-inch heels, put her eye to eye with Grissom.

"And the band sounds good."  Grissom's black clad arm was behind Sara, his hand resting on her lower back.  Under his blazer he wore a silvery-gray shirt, tucked neatly into his black slacks.  He'd had a tie on initially, but Sara talked him out of it, and further convinced him to open the top two buttons on his shirt.  She also hoped he would be out of the blazer before the end of the night.

Shown to a table, they placed their drink orders and were presented with an abbreviated menu from the Winery Restaurant.  After selecting eggplant parmesan for Sara and cashew nut cod for Grissom, they were told by their waitress that the first course would be served in about a half hour, so that they could spend some time dancing if they wanted.

"Shall we?"  Grissom stood and offered his hand.

The band was currently playing the Blues, so Grissom and Sara settled in for some slow dancing.  They did not speak much, both preferring to lose themselves in the magic of the night.  Ironically, their individual thoughts followed the same path.  Each was recalling the afternoon spent in the hotel room after returning from the gazebo.  Precipitated by the heightened emotion of Sara's disclosure, their lovemaking had been incredibly passionate.  They had indeed napped for a while afterward, and then woke to get ready for their night out.  They decided to shower together, allegedly to save time, although that was not the result.

Because of the timing of their shower and the fact that they shared a single room, they ended up getting dressed and groomed together as well.  It struck each of them at some point during the process that this had never happened before.  In the past, if they slept at one of their houses and were getting ready for work, one tended to get dressed while the other worked on breakfast.  As such, Grissom had never been witness to Sara putting on pantyhose or applying make-up, and she had never watched him fuss with his hair or put on cologne.  It was oddly intimate, they concluded separately, and continued to ponder as they danced.

A little after 1 a.m., Grissom let them into their hotel room.  The evening had been a complete success.  Their meals were delicious, and the band and its singers kept the momentum going all night.  When Grissom or Sara needed a break from dancing, they rested in the amphitheater bleachers and simply watched.  They pointed more skillful dancers out to each other and debated whether they could manage similar moves.  They noted a few people who were videotaping the dancers and wondered if anyone could actually learn new steps that way.  Sara was thrilled when they played a series of swing and Big Band era music to which they could Lindy, including two of her favorites: Artie Shaw's "Begin the Beguine" and Glenn Miller's "In the Mood."  The female singer had a soulful voice, and toward the end of the night, Grissom requested that she perform "At Last" by Etta James.  While not a jazz piece, it did have a bluesy quality, and the bandleader could not resist announcing that the song was "From Gil, for his gal Sara."

~*~*~

They could have headed back to Vegas on Sunday after the tour at the vineyard.  Loaded down with several bottles of wine and more information about growing grapes in the desert than Grissom thought he would ever need, they returned to the hotel and debated what to do with the remainder of their day. Aside from the winery, the town and surrounding area did not offer anything Vegas did not.  

Except anonymity. 

They ultimately decided to stay and walk through the town, stopping occasionally to visit shops that looked interesting.  Unconcerned that they would run into someone who would know them as supervisor and subordinate, they strolled through Pahrump holding hands, or arm in arm, or with Grissom's arm around Sara's waist.  This was another reason Sara wanted to get away from Vegas; they could behave like any other couple.  There was no need to show up separately to the movies or a dance club, or scope out a restaurant and request a table in the corner.  Neither of them enjoyed the clandestine behavior, so they tended to go out in public only rarely or drive out of Clark County to do it.

Early in the evening Sara and Grissom found themselves drinking another bottle of their newly purchased desert blush wine as they sat on their room's patio.  She was reading a true crime novel and he was reviewing a chapter of an entomological text he had agreed to edit for a friend.  His bare foot ran up and down her leg as his hands were occupied with the manuscript.  When they were alone together, he frequently touched her.  While it no longer surprised her, Sara often speculated about it.  Before they became involved, Sara had imagined that Gil Grissom would be a passionate lover, and she had not been wrong.  She guessed it had to do with the fact that he had to hold himself back at work.  Not just with her, but with his emotions.

She had never thought, however, that he would be as physically affectionate as he was outside of the bedroom.  No matter what they were doing, if they were together outside work, some part of his body was almost always in contact with hers.  If he could not touch her for a while – maybe their hands were busy preparing a meal – he would occasionally stop what he was doing to hug her or kiss her and tell her that he loved her.  She wondered if he needed to prove to himself that she was really there, in the flesh.  Or perhaps he was just making up for all the time they had missed.  Whatever the underlying cause, she was certainly not about to complain. 

She caught his foot in her hand and began massaging it.  When he looked at her, she asked, "You hungry?"

"For what?"  He smirked.

"Well I was thinking dinner, but I could be flexible."

"You certainly can.  I love it when you take your leg and put it - "

Laughing, she cut him off, "That's not what I meant."

"Maybe not, but now I've got this image in my head."  He pulled his foot from her hands and crept it up the leg of her shorts.  "And I'm not going to be able to get rid of it unless we do something about it."

"Oh?  And what do you propose we do?"

Withdrawing his foot, Grissom stood and took the two steps necessary to place himself directly in front of Sara.  He bent over and placed his hands on the arms of her chair, effectively trapping her.  Leaning in further, he nipped at her ear as he whispered, "It's kind of like when you have the same song running through your head all day long and you can't shake it.  You have to listen to the song."  He bit at her chin.  "I think we need to go and recreate that position."  

Sara's hands went to his waist.  "Nope, sorry."  She kissed the tip of his nose.  "You listen to a _different song.  You know, to distract you.  So I really don't think recreating the position is going to solve your problem, Gil."_

One hand left the chair and brushed her hair aside.  He nuzzled her neck and continued, "Well then I think we have our work cut out for us, love, because it's going to take some pretty spectacular…maneuvering to make me forget."  His other hand snuck under her shirt and found her breast.

Her mind fuzzy from what he was doing to her body, Sara sighed.  "Is that a challenge?  You know I can't resist a challenge."

Straightening up and pulling Sara with him, Grissom replied, "Consider it whatever you want.  Just come inside with me."

"I'm sure I will," she winked.  "Multiple times, in fact." 

~*~*~

Late Monday morning they left Pahrump behind and started back for Las Vegas.  Sara drove, having convinced Grissom that after all the wine and activity the night before, he was not as alert as she was.  She loved to drive his Mercedes, although she would probably never admit it to him.

They were discussing the highlights of the weekend when Grissom asked, "What do men and fine wine have in common?"

Unsuccessfully suppressing a smile, Sara responded, "Ummm, I don't know.  What do they have in common?"

"They all start out as grapes, and it is your job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd want to have with dinner."

Sara laughed despite herself.  "That was bad, Gris."

"You didn't like that?"  Feigning insult, he complained, "I wracked my brain all weekend to remember a wine related joke."  A moment later he added, "Okay, in light of our current activity, here's another one:  A man and a woman are driving down the same road at the same time.  As they pass each other the woman leans out the window, points and yells, 'PIG!'  The man immediately leans out his window, shakes his fist and shouts back, 'WITCH!'  They each continue on their way, and as the man rounds the next corner, he slams into a pig that had wandered into the middle of the road."  Shaking his head, he concluded, "If only men would listen."

"Amen," she added, choking on a chuckle.

Before they started dating, Sara knew the serious and dedicated side of Grissom.  She had also seen glimpses of the passionate man who sought justice for victims of crimes.  It was not until a few weeks into their relationship that she was introduced to this funny, quirky, even silly Gil Grissom.  At the oddest moments he would tell a joke, which, given his intelligence, would always be germane to the situation.  Sara remembered she almost fell off her chair the first time he told her a joke.  It was St. Patrick's Day and his story had the obligatory leprechaun, who Grissom imitated with a dead-on Irish brogue.  Who would have known he had a knack for accents?

Warrick had once asked her what Grissom drank when he went out.  The question served to make the point that neither of them really knew the man.  While she now had the answer to that question – it varied depending on his mood and what he was eating – Sara found herself more than willing to keep such information to herself.  Aside from the fact that people would question how she came by this knowledge, she _wanted to be the only person who was privy to the details of his private life.  Truth be told, she did not want anyone else to know that Grissom played poker like a pro, and in fact enjoyed playing many different card and board games with her.  Though everyone knows he reads poetry, Sara wanted it to remain a secret that he also wrote it when the spirit moved him.  And she had no intention of sharing the fact that he could be more adventurous in bed than even she would have guessed._

Sara smiled at that thought.  Catching her look, Grissom offered, "Penny for your thoughts."

"They're worth more than that."  She had just spent a wonderful weekend with the man she loved, and she was heading back to a challenging, rewarding job at which she excelled.  Life, Sara thought warmly, was pretty damn good right now.

It would amaze her how much would change in the next few days.

To be continued…

A/N:  In case you don't know the song, here are the lyrics to "At Last."  Celine Dion does a decent job with it as well, but nothing compares to Etta James' original, in my opinion.

_At last   
My love has come along   
My lonely days are over  
And life is like a song.  
At last  
The skies above are blue  
My heart was wrapped up in clover  
The night I looked at you.  
I found a dream that I could speak to,  
A dream that I can call my own.  
I found a thrill to press my cheek to   
A thrill that I have never known.  
Oh, you smiled. . .  
You smiled and then the spell was cast  
Now here we are in heaven  
For you are mine at last._


	2. Part 2

These characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker and many other people who are making a profit from them.  I don't happen to be one of them.  No copyright infringement is intended.  In fact, AZ and company should be pleased, as imitation is the highest form of flattery.

Thanks, as always, to my betas Alison and Margaret, without whom I'm not sure I would have tried my hand at a WIP (when it was one).  Their wisdom also convinced me to have the entire fic completed before I began posting it – definitely a smart move considering how long this has taken.  You two are the best!

~*~*~

Shortly after returning to Vegas Monday afternoon, Sara and Grissom went their separate ways.  She left to run errands and do laundry while he decided to get some sleep before work.

Sara took a brief nap before leaving early for the lab.  She had been working a murder case with Catherine and Nick before the weekend, and wanted to catch up on whatever progress they had made.  In terms of evidence analysis, their job was nearly complete.  Unfortunately it did not yet yield the identity of the killer.  Sara was hoping her time away would afford her a different perspective on the case.

She was still reviewing the evidence when Nick entered the layout room.  "Hey, welcome back.  How was the weekend?"

"You know how those family things are."  She tried to be vague because despite being willing to do so, Sara did not like lying to her friends.

"Sure, half of them want details on all the gory cases you've caught and the other half want to know why you aren't married with kids yet."

Returning his smile, she commiserated, "Something like that, yeah."

"You done here?  Shift's just about to begin."

"Already?"  Sara glanced at her watch and was startled to see that it was indeed almost time to report for duty.  "Time certainly does fly when you're having fun, huh?" 

Arriving in the break room a few minutes later, Sara and Nick heard Catherine asking Grissom about his weekend.

"It was fine."

"Uh-oh.  I know that tone.  That means his roaches got stage fright again," joked Warrick.  "How'd they do?"

Grissom was prepared for this question, "Second, third, fourth, and last in their respective races."  He only hoped Warrick would not recognize the standings as those from the last competition he had attended.

"Last, man, that's got to hurt."  This was from Nick.

"Yes, well, let's just hope that particular cockroach is aptly named: 'I've Got Portential'"

"'_Portential_?'  What the hell kind of name is that?"  Much as Catherine hated to participate in a discussion about Grissom's racing roaches, the question came out before she could stop herself.

"Ah.  The scientific name for the Madagascar hissing cockroach is _gromphadorhina portentosa_, thus 'I've Got _Portent_ial' and her team mate 'Forrest Gromph'"

Sara and Warrick chuckled, Nick snorted, and Catherine shook her head.

Nick admitted, "I'm almost afraid to ask.  What are the others named?"

With an indignant look on his face, Grissom supplied, "'Black Betty' and 'Madagascar Margaret.'"

"Well those aren't so bad," sighed Catherine.  With a glint in her eye, she asked, "Who are Betty and Margaret?"

"What do you mean?"

"Who'd you name them after?"

"No one."  He tried not to look at Sara.  "They're random names I picked for alliterative purposes."

"Gotta say I'm not buying that, Gris.  Men don't name things like cars and… cockroaches after just anybody."

"You do a study on that, Nick?"  This was the first Sara had spoken since the discussion began.  She wanted to deflect the attention off Grissom without being obvious about it; although part of her did want to know who Betty and Margaret were.

"I'm with Nick on this one.  There's definitely a story here."  Warrick put in his two cents.

"One you won't get because we've got work to do.  In case some of you have forgotten why we're here."

"Oh I'm sure you can expect that in," Catherine checked her watch, "two minutes, when shift actually starts, we'll all be more than ready to work."

This time Grissom did look briefly at Sara, who only lifted her eyebrows in a "You got yourself into this" expression.

He let out a brief sigh.  "Margaret is the name of the girl I had my first serious crush on.  We were lab partners in ninth grade science.  Betty isn't a real person, but the name 'Black Betty' came from my best friend as a child."  He glanced about the room and realized that they expected him to continue.  "Her name is Alison and she and I used to catch insects together.  She always named hers 'Black Betty.'"

"Always?  Not very original of her."  Sara had a feeling there was more to the story.  She made a mental note to ask him another time.

"What she lacked in creativity as a child she obviously made up for as an adult.  She's a novelist now, with at least three published books under her belt."  He paused, in part to shift gears, and in part to let his CSIs get any final comments out of their systems.  When none followed, he continued.

"If we're finished with cocktail hour, I'd like to give out assignments.  Warrick and Sara, you have a possible suicide at the Bellagio."  He handed a slip of paper to Sara since she was closer.  "Nick and Cath, you're going to remain on the Collins case, but you're going to have to put it on the back burner for the time being.  You've got a rape at UNLV that takes priority right now.  I'll be here catching up on paperwork if anyone needs me.  When I'm done with that, I'll review what you've got on Collins."

"You do realize I was on the Collins case too, right?"  This was said in a matter-of-fact manner, with barely a trace of attitude.  Sara did not want to jump down Grissom's throat about it, but at the same time she wanted to be sure he was not being overprotective of her because of their relationship.  Besides, the others would know something was up if Sara just let him remove her from a case with no comment.

"Yes, but three of you weren't able to make much headway in the two days before your time off, and Cath and Nick have basically come to a dead-end since you've been gone.  According to Catherine, it doesn't look like there's enough evidence to make a case one way or the other.  It's not efficient to have three CSIs on it any longer."

Getting up, Sara handed him the file with a wry smile.  "Well then, here it is.  Good luck.  I nearly went bleary-eyed and came up with nothing new anyway."

~*~*~

As the nightshift was getting their cases, Conrad Ecklie thought he was going brain dead.

His wife's sister and her husband were in town for a few days – he was grateful he lived in Las Vegas and it was more appealing for them to stay in a hotel on the strip than in his house – and they were being regaled with stories of the couple's drive from Fresno.

When they offered to show the video they shot along the way, Ecklie inwardly groaned and tried to come up with a half-decent excuse to skip the viewing.  Sure, his wife would probably withhold sex for a month as punishment for being so rude, but he figured anything had to be better than watching Jane and John Boring's travel logs in Technicolor.  Unfortunately, Karen Ecklie gushed about what a great idea it was and led them all into the den, taking Conrad by the arm.

Ecklie had to admit that the footage from the Sequoia National Park was spectacular, for about the first five minutes.  But after you've seen one giant tree, you've pretty much seen them all, he mused.  He had even less tolerance for the video of his in-laws' trek though Death Valley.  He lived in a freaking desert; did he really need to see how one looked with his in-laws in it?

Whiling away the time they spent in Death Valley by ranking the various ways he wanted to kill himself just then, Ecklie's attention was caught when the scenery changed again.  This, according to his sister-in-law, was from a tour at a winery in Nevada's Mojave Desert.  After ten minutes of listening to the tour guide drone on about the history of the vineyard, Ecklie tried to keep himself awake by studying all the people the camera captured and guessing what type of crimes they would be most likely to commit.

When the camera closed in on a gazebo, Conrad Ecklie nearly spilled his drink.  "Holy shit!"

"Connie honey, what's wrong?"

"That's Grissom and Sidle."

"Oh, I think they were at the dance too.  You know them?  Such an attractive couple," piped in his sister-in-law.

"What dance?  You have that on tape too?"

Seeing the practically rabid look in her brother-in-law's eyes, she was now hesitant to answer Conrad.  "The dinner-dance at the winery later that night.  It was part of their annual jazz festival.  We do have some of that on tape."

Grabbing the remote control from his sister-in-law's hand, Ecklie rewound the video to get another look at the two CSIs in what could only be described as an intimate embrace.  Nearly an hour later he had skimmed through all of the video taken at the dance, stopping any time the camera passed over the night shift supervisor and his subordinate.

Turning to his brother-in-law, Ecklie smiled, "Buddy, I'd like to borrow this tape if I could."

~*~*~

"You were up early today," Sara commented the next evening as she washed the lettuce for the salad she was preparing.

Hands busy cutting chicken and vegetables for kabobs, Grissom tilted his chin toward the TTY on the counter next to his phone and replied, "I wanted to catch my mother before she left for the gallery tonight.  She's showing a new artist and she always gets a little nervous before a premiere."

"Such a good son."  She patted his face with her wet hand.

"Not to hear my mother tell it.  When I mentioned we'd gone to Pahrump for the weekend, she wanted to know why we didn't come visit her instead."

"She's in California, and we only had the weekend."

"My point exactly.  To which she responded that a flight to L.A. is barely more than an hour."

"Except that when you factor in how early we'd have to get to the airport and how long you'd drive around LAX before finally following my directions to get us out of there, it's much more than an hour's travel time you're talking about."  He flashed her a look at the comment about his driving.  She smiled and continued, "Anyway, you know we couldn't go to California without visiting my folks too, so a weekend would never be enough."

"I told her that as well."

"And?"

After washing his hands and wiping them on a towel, Grissom kissed Sara on the nose.  "And she asked what's the use of being the boss if I can't arrange a week off for us."

"I've wondered that myself.  You know, where are my perks for sleeping with the boss?"

"I thought sleeping with the boss was a perk in and of itself."

Grissom's cell phone rang, saving Sara from coming up with a witty reply.

"Grissom… No Conrad, you didn't wake me.  What can I do for you?... How early?..."  He glanced at his watch and let out a sigh.  "Yeah, I suppose I could make it…Fine, bye."

Closing the phone, Grissom looked at Sara.  "That was Ecklie."

"So I gathered.  What does he want you to come in early for?"

"He says he's got something he wants me to take a look at."

"Some kind of bug?"

"I imagine.  What else could he want with me?"

~*~*~

"Gil, thank you for coming.  Sorry to drag you in an hour before shift, but I had a feeling you'd like to see this.  I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."  Ecklie directed Grissom to a chair.

Not one to sit and chat with Conrad Ecklie, Grissom moved him along.  "Don't worry about it.  So where is it?"

"Right here."  He indicated the television cart, complete with VCR.

"You have a _video_ of an insect?  Where's the actual sample?"

"Oh, no, Gil, you misunderstand.  This isn't work-related."

Getting pissed that he had given up time with Sara for this nonsense, Grissom responded sarcastically, "Home movies Conrad?"

"As a matter of fact, yes.  But as I said, I thought you'd find this interesting."  Fiddling with the remote control, Ecklie continued, "My in-laws are in town, visiting from California.  They nearly put me in a coma with their footage of Death Valley and other national monuments."  He paused to look at Grissom as he found the Play button.

"Can we please get to the point here?"

"Did you know there's a winery in the Mojave Desert?"

Momentarily stunned and instantly suspicious of where this was going, the best Grissom could think to say was, "Excuse me?"

Ecklie smiled as he explained, "In a little town called Pahrump.  Seems they have a jazz festival and dance every year.  My in-laws are into that ballroom dancing shit."  He feigned a look of concern and said, "No offense, of course, if you happen to enjoy that kind of thing yourself.  Anyway, this is from a tour they took at the vineyard."  He started the tape.

Grissom had a moment's relief as he thought that Ecklie's in-laws had been in the same tour group with him and Sara.  They held hands throughout the tour, but Grissom estimated the chances to be slim that someone would have caught that on tape.  If all this showed was the two of them at a vineyard together, it could be easily and innocently explained away.

It was when he did not recognize the tour guide that Grissom's heart began to sink.  He forced himself to watch the tape, occasionally glancing at Ecklie to gauge his reaction.  Grissom thought bitterly that he would love to get the man into a game of poker – he was easier to read than shoe prints tracked through paint.  Seeing the grin on the bastard's face begin to spread, Grissom turned his attention back to the screen.  In the background, he could see the gazebo.  Apparently, whoever was filming noticed it as well, because the camera zoomed in on it.  From a distance, Grissom could tell that he and Sara were its only two occupants, and his pulse quickened in anger at the thought that Conrad Ecklie was in any way privy to that particular moment with Sara.

When the camera operator finished closing in on the structure, anyone who knew them would have recognized Gil Grissom standing behind Sara Sidle, his arms wrapped around her.  Closing his eyes for a few seconds, Grissom muttered, "That's enough Conrad."

"But that's not even the good part, Gil." 

"I said _enough_!"  He raised his voice, but did not have the energy to get up and walk out the door.

After his brief outburst, Grissom remained silent.  "No comment, Gil?"

"I have nothing to say to you about this."

"Aren't you the least bit interested in what else is on this tape?"  When no response came, Ecklie kept talking.  "There's some footage of the dance, with you and Sidle looking awfully…cozy.  Oh, and I must commend you on the song you requested; seems you're quite the romantic."  Disappointed that the entomologist did not react, he offered, "I have to say, Gil, I never pictured you as the dancing type.  But then again, I never thought you'd fuck a subordinate, either."

Jumping up from the chair, Grissom hissed, "Not one word, Ecklie.  Not one more word from you."  He shut the TV off and moved to leave.

"Grissom, wait!"  The entomologist stopped, but did not turn around.  "Don't you want to know what I'm going to do with this tape?"

"Take it to hell with you?"

"Oh now Gil, you've hurt my feelings.  I know what I _should do with the tape.  I should take it to Director Carvallo and let him deal with the fact that the night shift supervisor is engaged in an inappropriate relationship with one of his CSIs.  The same CSI that said supervisor brought to Las Vegas - "_

Grissom faced Ecklie.  "This has nothing to do with my hiring Sara."

"I'm sure it doesn't, Gil."  His tone was clearly placating now.  "But you must be aware that's exactly how it'll look.  In fact, every move you've made regarding CSI Sidle, every evaluation you've given her, every achievement she's earned will be suspect once this gets out."  The look on Grissom's face would have made a lesser man change his mind; but Ecklie steeled himself for his coup de grâce.  "But maybe it doesn't have to get out."

"What are you talking about Ecklie?"

"I'm talking about the fact that we can maybe help each other out a little here.  I can 'forget' all about this tape in return for your support and a letter of recommendation when Carvallo's job becomes available."

"Carvallo's leaving?"

"Nothing's official yet, but word has it he won't be around after the New Year."

"You do realize this is blackmail, don't you?"

"Tomato, tomahto, Gil.  I'd describe it more as 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.'  So what do you say?"

Grissom just stared at him.  He was loathe to do anything to help Ecklie become Lab Director, but sometimes it was better to work with the devil you knew.  Maybe he could guarantee some kind of job security for Sara, if not himself.  "What happens to me and Sara if you do become Director?  I mean, either way, the director knows about us.  Why shouldn't we just take our chances with Carvallo now?"

Ecklie grinned.  _Gotcha_.  "Because you have my word that once I'm Lab Director, as long as you two keep it from interfering with the job, I'll see no reason to make an issue of your after-hours…activities."  Conrad Ecklie was no fool.  He knew that Grissom and Sidle were a large part of the reason the night shift had the highest clearance rate.  He was also pretty damned sure Carvallo would look the other way if it meant keeping that team intact and successful.  Hell, Willows blew up the DNA lab and all she got was a five day vacation.

Offering his hand, Ecklie pushed.  "So do we have a deal, Gil?"

Grissom thought for a few moments.  There was no way he was going to agree to anything with Ecklie until he discussed the situation with Sara.  Looking at his watch, he saw that he had about a half hour before shift started.  Sara was probably somewhere in the building already, maybe he should tell her about this now.  "I'll have to get back to you on this, Ecklie."

As Grissom stormed into the hall, Ecklie called after him.  "Consider this time-sensitive, Grissom.  Twenty-four hours and this will be a moot point."

Ecklie closed his door and took a deep breath.  Reaching for the phone and dialing, he mentally applauded himself for his performance with Grissom.  He considered it a trial run, however, for his next meeting.

~*~*~

Sara was in the break room flipping through the latest volume of _The Journal of Forensic Sciences_ when her pager sounded.  "What the hell?" she muttered when she saw the text message requesting her presence at Ecklie's office.

Heading there a few minutes later, Sara wondered what was going on.  It was definitely strange that Ecklie would need to talk to her.  If it had anything to do with the bug he had for Grissom, why didn't Gil himself page her?  Turning into the final corridor, Sara saw Grissom at the other end of the hall, leaving his own office.  He headed for the nearest exit, which took him away from Sara's direction.  Though she could not be sure, Sara thought he looked incredibly tense.  If it would not have drawn unnecessary attention to herself, she would have called out or jogged after him.  Instead, she pulled out her cell phone and began dialing his number as she continued to walk.  Before she could finish dialing, Ecklie stepped out of his office as she was about to pass it by.

"Ms. Sidle, thank you for coming so quickly."

In her haste to get in touch with Grissom, Sara had momentarily forgotten she was on the way to see Ecklie.  Stopping short, she said, "Oh, yeah, right.  Listen, I just have to make a phone call, and then I'll be right back."

"You don't have very long before your shift begins.  I'd really like to get this over before then.  Please, put the phone away and come have a seat."

"This can't wait five minutes?"

"It really can't, no."  He tried to take the sting out of his words with a grin.

She looked at him suspiciously.  The smarmy smile did nothing to ease her concern, and in fact alarmed her more when she considered that Grissom met with him earlier and now seemed to be upset.  With an ersatz smile of her own, she replied, "Fine."  She made a show of hitting a few more buttons on her phone before clipping it to her belt, explaining, "Let me just shut this off so we won't be interrupted."

Following Ecklie into his office, Sara looked around and immediately began a mental inventory of the ways in which this space differed from Grissom's.  While the entomologist's office revealed a great deal about his interests and hobbies, Ecklie's Spartan surroundings said virtually nothing about his personality, except maybe that he did not have one.

"Why don't you take a seat, Ms. Sidle?"

"I'll stand."  She crossed her arms over her stomach in what she intended to be a bored and impatient gesture.

"Well then, let me explain why you're here."

"Please do."

He did not like her attitude.  _Why is she already on the offensive?_  _I'll just knock her down a peg or two, then.  "You know what?  On second thought, let me just show you."   He walked to the television stand and hit Play on the VCR._

As soon as she saw recognized the winery, Sara knew what would be on the tape.  While the specifics would reveal themselves on the screen in a few minutes, Sara understood that whatever she was about to see was incriminating enough for it to have upset Grissom.

Sara remained where she stood and allowed Ecklie to comment on scene after scene of what had been the best weekend of her adult life.  _Not a bad way for a guy to spend his mid-life crisis.  I find it interesting that someone as young as you would know those dances.  Who knew Gil Grissom was such a romantic?  I thought you'd be too much of a feminist to stand anyone calling you "his gal."_

When the tape was over, Ecklie found himself grateful that looks could not actually kill.  He was certain he would have been a dead man many times over if they could.  He was also surprised Sidle had managed to keep her mouth shut the entire time.

When she finally did speak, it was acidic.  "Where did you get this?"

He did not expect that question, at least not yet.  "My in-laws happened to be there.  They showed me and my wife the video."

"So you didn't send someone out to follow us because you suspected something?"

Misunderstanding why she asked the question, he rushed to assure her.  "No.  I had no idea about you two until I saw the tape.  And no one knows about the video but me."

"And Grissom."

"Yes, Grissom has seen it."

"Why have we been treated to this sneak preview?"

"As a courtesy."  Why was she interrogating him?  When did he lose control of this meeting?

"Explain."

Clearing his throat, he dove in.  "I'm sure you must understand that as a supervisor who is aware of the inappropriate behavior of other employees, it is my responsibility to turn over the evidence of such action to the director of the lab."

"Oh, I see.  You wanted to give us fair warning so we'd be prepared when Carvallo calls us in to fire our asses?"

_What the hell is her problem?  You'd think she'd be a little more conciliatory given her position right now._  "Actually, Ms. Sidle…Sara, I'd like to think I have more forethought than Director Carvallo.  Being in the trenches, as it were, I see the forest for the trees in a way our esteemed director does not."  When her only response was to raise her eyebrows, he continued.  "I believe that you and Grissom are assets to this lab; I think it would be foolish to force one or both of you to leave.  That said, it is unprofessional and inappropriate for you to…be involved with your supervisor."

"What's your point, Ecklie?  And make it quick, because my shift starts in about ten minutes."

"I'm willing to withhold knowledge of this tape and your relationship with Grissom if you come work for me."

Sara's mouth dropped open.  "And why on earth would I do that?  Wait, wait.  First tell me why on earth _you'd _want_ that."_

"Sara, it's no secret that you are the hardest worker on the night shift.  Hell, I don't think it would be a stretch to say you're the most successful CSI we have in the entire lab right now.  I'd be lying if I said dayshift couldn't benefit from your presence on the team.  As for why you might want to make the change, the first reason is the possibility of advancement."  He lowered his voice.  "I can't go into details right now, Sara, but if…situations fall into place for me, I might soon be in the position to select my replacement as shift supervisor.  If you can prove yourself to me on days, I'd have no problem recommending you."

"What if I tell you that being shift supervisor holds absolutely no appeal for me?"

"I'd call you a liar."  He said it with a genuine smile.  "You'd thrive on it, and you and I both know that.  But let's put discussion of your future on the backburner for a minute.  The other reason you might want to switch to days is to spare Grissom the embarrassment of being known as the strange old bug guy who hired his beautiful young student to have sex with him."

For the first time since walking through the door, she let her true emotions show.  Pointing her finger as she stalked across the room to get into his face, Sara nearly yelled, "You're a fucking pig, Ecklie!"

Hands up in a classic stance of surrender, he smiled.  "Now, Sara, I'm not saying I believe that.  As I just stated, I think you're an exemplary CSI, and I know you didn't sleep your way into your position.  But I do think it's safe to say that many people will believe that Gil…traded favors.  And with his national reputation as an entomologist, I'm afraid it will be his name more than yours that will spread like wildfire through the rumor mills of our profession."

Sara paced the room briefly while she clenched and unclenched her fists in an effort to calm down.  She berated herself for letting Ecklie get to her, but fury had been bubbling just under the surface since he started that damned video.

Ecklie, meanwhile, was becoming more and more pleased with himself.  He believed Sara's actions indicated that she was coming to terms with the fact that it was in her best interest to move to days.

"And of course you come out smelling like a rose, with no one knowing that you pulled this off through the use of blackmail."

"Blackmail?  The two of you do think alike, I'll give you that."  Looking at his watch, Ecklie realized he would not get an answer from her today.  Turning on his best "we're friends, right?" charm, he offered, "Why don't you think this over for a bit.  It's a big step, and I'm sure you don't want to rush into it blindly or based solely on emotions.  Come back tomorrow before your shift and let me know your decision then, okay?"

"And if I don't?"

The look in his eye betrayed non-threatening tone of his voice.  "If I don't hear from you by the end of my shift, I'm afraid I'll be forced to keep the appointment I made with Director Carvallo."

Disgust evident in her voice, Sara replied, "Sure Ecklie.  You'll know what I've decided tomorrow."  With that, she left.

Hoping she could catch Grissom before he joined the rest of team in the break room to dole out assignments, Sara strode quickly toward his office while working her phone.  When she found it empty, she kicked the doorframe and muttered obscenities that would make a sailor proud.

Sara took the walk to the break room more slowly, concentrating on evening her breathing and clearing her head with every step.  She was concerned with how she and Grissom would react when she saw him.  He would know by the look on her face that Ecklie had shown her the video.  She was certain his pulse would jump straight to 95, and if she had to be honest with herself, Sara was not sure she could reel in her own emotions anymore tonight.  Maintaining her calm the entire time – alright, _most of the time – with Ecklie had taken every ounce of her self control, and she was afraid that she might snap if she could not discuss this with Grissom soon._

~*~*~

"Has anyone seen Sara?"  Grissom was pouring a cup of coffee as Catherine, Warrick, and Nick sat at the table waiting for assignments.  He had been losing a battle with a migraine ever since Ecklie showed him that damned video.  After nearly tearing his office apart in search of his Imitrex, he remembered that he had taken the last one a few weeks ago and had neglected to replace his office supply.

"I saw her car in the lot when I came in, so she should be around here somewhere," volunteered Nick.

"Did you check the layout room?" Catherine chimed in.  "She's probably there pouring over the pathetic excuse for evidence we collected in the Collins case." 

"Well we don't have time to wait for her.  We've got a person missing from the Mountain View Hospital."

"A patient?" asked Warrick

"A mentally retarded teenager who was recovering from surgery, apparently.  I want all of us working on it.  I'll call Sara from the road."

"No need, I'm here," Sara announced as she came through the door.  "Sorry I'm late."  She looked around the room and noted that everyone was getting up, presumably to get started on their respective cases.  "Grissom, can I talk to you for a sec?  In private."

He regarded Sara for longer than he probably should have.  She looked…out of sorts, Grissom thought.  He knew she had not been late to work, yet she was late to their staff meeting, and she was anxious to talk to him.  Engaging her eyes for a few moments, realization hit him in the gut and nearly knocked the wind out of him.  Yes, they needed to talk.

Noticing that Warrick and Nick had already left the room, Grissom called Catherine's name as she was nearly through the door herself.  "Cath, you take Nicky and Warrick to the hospital.  I'll drive with Sara."

"Sure.  See you there."  She barely turned as she continued into the hall.

"Are you okay?"  Grissom asked quietly.

"I…not here.  I can't do this here.  Where are we heading?"

"A 418 at Mountain View Hospital."

"Well that'll at least give us 15 minutes to talk."

"I think we're going to need more time than that."

Sara offered him a sympathetic look.  "Doesn't look like we're going to get that anytime soon with a lost person somewhere out there.  Let's go."

Once in the privacy of the Tahoe, Sara asked, "What did he say to you?"

"You spoke to Ecklie?" Grissom started at the same time.  "You first."  He put the vehicle in gear and started out of the lot.

"Yeah, Ecklie paged me, right after you left him, I'd guess.  I actually saw you as you were storming out of your office and I was trying to reach you when he caught up to me."

"He showed you the tape?"

"And loved every minute of it, making snide little comments throughout."  She paused for moment, not sure how much she should reveal to him right now.  Ultimately she decided that he needed to know everything that had happened; she knew they would both be thinking about this even as they worked their case tonight.  The more information they had, the better solutions they could develop.  "He wants me to switch to days."

"What?"

"He said he would keep his mouth shut about the tape if I joined his team."

Grissom shook his head in disbelief.  "All he wanted from me was support when Carvallo leaves."

"Ah, so that's what he was talking about.  He hinted at some kind of shift in the administration, but said he couldn't go into detail.  Do you know anything about it?"

"No, I haven't heard a thing."

"You think Ecklie's planning on staging a coup of some kind?"

"I don't know how he could.  Carvallo's not an elected official like the Sheriff."

"I wonder if Ecklie has something on Carvallo.  We know damned well he'd be willing to use it."  Sara massaged her forehead; she was getting a headache.  And if she was getting one, Grissom was probably in the throes of a migraine by now.  "Did you take any medication?"

"What for?"

"Your migraine."

He gave her a wry smile.  "No, I don't have any more at work.  I forgot to replace them when I took the last one."

Reaching behind the driver's seat for Grissom's field kit, she muttered affectionately, "Sometimes I don't know what you'd do without me."  Pulling the case onto her lap, Sara opened it and ran her fingers between the foam cushion and the interior wall, searching out the small manila envelope she had hidden there a few months before.  She poured a pill out into her hand and presented it to him.  "Violà."

Swallowing it dry, he took her hand.  "We won't have to find out, you know."

"Find what out?"

"What I would do without you."  He took his eyes off the road long enough to look into Sara's in an attempt to offer some support.

"I hope you're right."  Letting out a sigh, Sara continued, "We're in for some rough times ahead, Gil."

Squeezing her hand, he assured her, "We'll get through them."

Sitting back in her seat and closing her eyes, Sara wished she could agree with him.

To be continued…


	3. Part 3

These characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker and many other people who are making a profit from them.  I don't happen to be one of them.  No copyright infringement is intended.  In fact, AZ and company should be pleased, as imitation is the highest form of flattery.

Thanks, as always, to my betas Alison and Margaret, without whom I'm not sure I would have tried my hand at a WIP (when it was one).  Their wisdom also convinced me to have the entire fic completed before I began posting it – definitely a smart move considering how long this has taken.  You two are the best!

~*~*~

Once in the hospital, all discussion of their situation ceased.  Catherine had already located a hospital administrator by the time Grissom and Sara arrived and had assigned Nick and Warrick to conduct an initial sweep of the missing girl's room.

"Sara, why don't you go to security and start to review any and all surveillance tapes from the time in question."

"Right."  Her own fears put aside for now, Sara was all business, the matter of finding the missing girl foremost in her mind.

Catherine introduced Grissom to Andrew Spellman, Mountain View's head administrator.  The short man shook Grissom's hand firmly and launched right into his account of the events of the evening.  "As I was telling your associate, Keri Fuentes is a 17 year-old patient recovering from an appendectomy.  Ms. Fuentes is developmentally disabled.  She was in a semi-private room, but had no roommate after 11 this morning.  She was last seen, in her room, at 7:30 this evening, just before the nursing staff shift change."

"You said she is developmentally disabled; how severely?  Would she have been able to fight off an attacker?"

"According to the nurses I spoke with, she was very easily led; she may well have willingly left with a stranger.  Or she may have wandered off on her own and gotten lost somewhere in the building."

"What happened once it was discovered she was missing?"

"Per our security policy, the head floor nurse called a Code Amber, which dictates that all nonessential exits are locked and all others are monitored by security personnel.  No one may exit the hospital without being checked by security.  Other security guards, as well as the police, are in the process of a thorough search of the entire hospital facility."

If Grissom understood the timing correctly, an entire shift of employees left the building before the code was called and security was stationed at the doors.  "What time did security take their places at the exits?"

Regarding the clipboard he had been holding but had previously not referred to, Mr. Spellman responded, "Approximately 8:15."

"And what time do the nurses get off shift?"

"Mr. Grissom, if you are suggesting that one of my nurses - "

"I'm not suggesting anything, Mr. Spellman, but the police are going to need to question all staff members who left the hospital before security was put in place.  Are the nurses the only people changing shift at that time?"

"No.  Many of our departments also change shift at the same time, from radiology to janitorial."

"We're going to need lists of all those people."

"I'll get right on that.  Is there anything else?"  At the shake of Grissom's head, he left to complete his task.

They had their work cut out for them.  It was going to be a very long night.

~*~*~

After dawn, in a tiny hide-away in the back of one of the boiler rooms, a _Highlights_ magazine that belonged to Keri was found.  Her fingerprints were discovered, among other places, on the metal edge of the small cot in the room.  Several other sets of prints were retrieved, as well as traces of semen in the bedding.  Since all employees in the hospital were required by policy to be fingerprinted, quick work was made of identifying the people who had been in the room.  All but one of them, a medical student by the name of Gregory Stephens, were cleared of suspicion.

While the police continued their search for the girl, and now the med student, the criminalists were escorted to Stephens' apartment to seek out any evidence that Keri had been there.  When they found none, there was nothing left for them to do but wait for her to be found.

By the time they finished, it was well into the day shift at the lab.

Sara, coming from a quick clean up in the locker room, stopped by Grissom's office on her way out.  "You're not waiting here for word, are you?"

Eased somewhat by her gentle tone, he admitted the truth.  "Sort of.  I keep hoping that if I stay just another five minutes, the call will come in saying that she's been found.  Alive."

"You can wait for that call at home, you know.  Besides, there's no need to stay here; the DNA analysis of the seminal fluid won't be complete before our next shift begins…"  She trailed off, remembering that they had Ecklie's deadline to meet in the next few hours.

Picking up on her train of thought, Grissom sighed.  He had actually forgotten for a while.  Unfortunately, they no longer had the luxury of being distracted by work.  "We need to finish that talk, don't we?"

Arriving at Grissom's townhouse thirty minutes later, only a few minutes after him, Sara was surprised to find him cutting fruit while an omelet cooked on the stove.

Noticing the expression on her face, Grissom responded with a shrug.  "Figured we could use some nourishment.  You want to eat at the counter or the table?"

Grabbing silverware and glasses, Sara set them up on the dining room table.  Returning to the kitchen to get juice from the fridge, Sara muttered, "Kind of feels like we're preparing for a Last Supper or something."

Putting the knife down, Grissom turned and gathered Sara in his arms.  "It's not that bad," he whispered into her hair.

Pulling back to look him in the face, she asked, "How can you say that?  Ecklie knows about us!  And the smarmy bastard is trying to blackmail us into - "

"'Trying' is the operative word here, Sara.  He hasn't done anything yet, and he can't do anything that we don't let him do."

Sara took a step back, coming out of his grasp, but grabbing onto his hands.  "You've got a point there, I suppose.  Whether he runs to Carvallo or makes me the next day shift supervisor," she raised her eyebrows, "it's ultimately our decision, isn't it?"

"If that's what you're limiting us to, that sounds about right."  With this, he moved from her to give the omelet one last turn before putting it on their plates.

She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips in thought.  "What are you talking about?"

"Nine dots on a page…"

The smile that lit Sara's face was the first real one since she walked into Ecklie's office yesterday.  "We need to think outside the box."

"One of us on a bad day has got to be more clever than Ecklie could ever hope to be."  Handing Sara the bowl of fruit, Grissom picked up both plates and nodded her out of the kitchen ahead of him. "C'mom, let's eat and mull this over."

Seated at the table, they dug in as Sara started.  "Okay, let's look at the facts first."  She ticked them off on her fingers as she spoke.  "One:  you and I are in a relationship that would be considered 'inappropriate' at best by our bosses, and could get us both in a lot of trouble.  Two:  Ecklie has evidence of this relationship.  Three:  Ecklie has offered to keep his mouth shut about us if you support him in his bid for lab director and I switch to days.  And if we don't accept his terms in the next," she looked at her watch, "three hours, he'll go to Carvallo with the tape.  Four:  we find those options reprehensible and unacceptable."  She paused for a moment and regarded Grissom, who seemed to be deep in thought.  "So.  What do you think?"

"I think it would be in our best interest not to let Ecklie go to Carvallo."

"And how do we avoid that?  You're not actually suggesting we go along with this, are you?"

"Well, Conrad did say he wouldn't give us any grief about our relationship if he got what he wanted and became the lab director."

"And you believe him?  Besides, if I go to days, we can't be accused of doing anything wrong, since you'll no longer be my supervisor."

"That's a point."

Sara's mouth dropped open.  "Are you telling me you _want_ me to move to days, Gil?"

A small smile graced his face.  "No, I'm not, and no, I don't.  Not on a professional level, or a personal one.  You shouldn't have to make that kind of sacrifice.  Besides, working on separate shifts, we'd hardly get to see each other."

"I'm glad you see it that way too.  Besides, I'd probably end up murdering Ecklie before the end of the first week and…Hey, now _that's an idea!"_

"What?"

"We could kill Ecklie."  She gave him a sly grin to emphasize that she was only kidding but was certainly willing to enjoy the fantasy.  "Who better to commit the perfect crime than a couple of criminalists?"

"Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind too," Grissom surprised Sara by saying, "but as you noted, we've only got three hours.  It's not possible to plan and complete the perfect murder, as well as cover up said act, in that amount of time."

The laughter that exploded from Sara brightened his mood immensely.  Except for murder, Grissom realized, there wasn't much he would not do for her.  Maybe it was time to let Sara know that.

"I could always resign."

Still chuckling and wiping the tears from her eyes, Sara was sure she must have misheard him.  "What did you just say?"

"You don't want to be on days, and we can't murder Ecklie.  It occurs to me that my role in this hasn't been explored yet.  Perhaps I should resign."

Sara was stunned.  "But…but, you don't _want_ to do that, do you?  I mean, have you thought about this before?"

"No, I haven't really given it any thought until now.  But it may be something to consider.  I could hire myself out as a consultant to other labs, maybe teach a few courses at UNLV, go on the lecture circuit, race cockroaches full time…"  He gave her a smile to soften the blow of his proposal.

"Not funny, Grissom.  If you really want to do any of those things, then fine, I'll support you a hundred percent.  But it doesn't work as a solution to our problem."

"Why not?"

"Same reason my moving to days wouldn't – we'd never get to spend any time together.  Even less if you start traveling."  She began to gnaw on her thumb's cuticle in frustration.

It was quiet for a few moments before Grissom spoke up, inspired by his previous line of thought.  "How about if I give up the supervisor position?"

Sara looked up from her hand and studied him but did not respond immediately.  "Can you do that?  I mean, will they let you?"

"Only one way to find out."

"Are you sure you want to?"

"Sara, I never wanted to be shift supervisor.  It was only supposed to be a temporary solution after Brass was transferred back to homicide when Holly was killed."

"So you'd be, what, a regular CSI?"  Sara was becoming excited at the prospect.  "And you'd be comfortable with that?"

"More than comfortable.  I hate the supervisory aspect of this job.  Now that I think about it, in fact, I'm embarrassed it didn't occur to me sooner."  He grinned.  "If I'd have thought to do this months ago, we wouldn't be in this mess right now."

Getting up from her chair and circling to him, Sara embraced Grissom from behind and kissed his cheek.  "Don't do that to yourself; hindsight's always twenty-twenty.  If this is really what you want to do, it looks like we've found ourselves a solution.  Thank you."  She kissed him again.  "When do you want to tell Carvallo?"

"I should call right now and see if I can get an appointment with him before shift starts."

Sara moved Grissom's plate out of the way and settled a hip on the table next to him.  "You mean before Ecklie's deadline?"

Raising his eyebrows, he replied, "That too."

"Good – Ecklie won't know what hit him."  Sara was more than satisfied with the idea of pulling an end-run around the day shift supervisor.  Then another thought suddenly struck.  "Gris, what if Carvallo wants to know why?"

Grissom sighed as he considered Sara's question.  She was right; Carvallo would probably ask for a reason.  And there was no telling how Ecklie would react once he realized they had yanked the rug out from under him; he might very well tell Carvallo what he knew out of spite.  Better for Grissom to be truthful, he believed, especially since their relationship should not be an issue once he was no longer Sara's supervisor.

"I think I should be honest.  Tell him I have a personal conflict and that the most beneficial move for the lab would be for me to step down as supervisor."

"Then I guess that settles it."

Reaching to pick up his phone, Grissom froze mid-motion.  "Shit."

"What is it?"

"It might not settle anything."

"Why not?"

"Think about it for a minute, Sara.  If I step down as shift supervisor, who do you think will be offered the job?"

She answered immediately, "Catherine.  She's got the seniority."

"She's also got a five-day suspension under her belt, from Carvallo, for causing the lab explosion - "

"That was an accident Gil, it could have happened to any of us."

"And her proficiency exam had to be reviewed last year - "

"It came out in her favor, and can hardly be used against her now."

"Plus there was the whole situation with Sam Braun."

"Yeah well, that was…"  While trying to come up with the appropriate word, Sara tried to figure out how they had gotten into a conversation about Catherine in the first place.  Tracing it back to the beginning, realization finally struck.  "You're trying to say Cath's not a shoe-in for shift supervisor."

He nodded.  "In fact, I think Ecklie had the right idea when he suggested that you could do the job."

"So you think if you give it up, Carvallo would offer it to me?"

A sad smile appeared on Grissom's face as he touched his pointer finger to the tip of his nose in the universal "You got it!" gesture.

"Well I don't want it – I'll just turn it down."

"Look how well that worked for me."

"Shit."  Sara unknowingly returned where Grissom started just moments before.

"Exactly."

Pondering the issue for a bit longer, Sara proposed, "Maybe when you talk to Carvallo you should be more specific about the nature of your 'personal conflict.'  That way he won't even consider me for your replacement.  Let him give it to Warrick – he'd do a good job, too."

Grissom raised an eyebrow.  "Really?  You didn't seem to think so last time I left him in charge."

Waving him off, she explained, "That was just because I was pissed at you for not leaving me in charge first."  She winked and flashed him a grin as she handed him the phone.  It rang before he had the chance to dial.

"Grissom."  Shooting a concerned look at Sara, he listened to the voice at the other end.  "I'll get Sara or Catherine and we'll be there as soon as possible."  Hanging up, he filled Sara in, "Keri Fuentes was found in a park a mile from the hospital.  Brass says she looks as if she's sustained a beating, at the very least."

"Let's go."

The phone call to Carvallo suddenly low on their priority list, Sara and Grissom rushed back to Mountain View Hospital to talk to and gather evidence from the teenager.  Since sexual assault was a possibility, Sara assisted a nurse in collecting a rape kit as well.  Because she did not entirely understand what was being done to her, Keri was extremely agitated, and the entire process took much longer than it ordinarily would have.  Sara's stomach turned at the thought that they were causing the girl as much trauma now as she had experienced during the assault itself.

By the time they left the hospital, their shift was about to begin.  In the Tahoe, Sara drove while Grissom called Catherine to ask her to assign any new cases as appropriate and inform her that he and Sara were off to the park, which they would comb for further evidence of the crime and its perpetrator.

"We missed Ecklie's deadline," Grissom stated simply.

Sara could not read the emotion in his voice.  "Yeah.  Well…I wonder if he'll really follow through just yet.  Maybe he'll want to give us a little more time to come to him – especially if he knows we've spent most of the past 24 hours on a case."

"The outcome will likely be the same in either case; Carvallo will still know about us.  Now it's just a matter of who gets to him first."

"True, but it would be a lot better if he hears it from you.  Don't you think he'd be more willing to agree with you if he doesn't think you're being forced into your decision?"

"You just want to screw Ecklie."

"To the wall.  With a freakin' nail gun."  She presented him with a wry grin.  "And I was thinking that while you were in with the director, I'd pay a visit to good ole Eck and tell him that we might forget to mention to Carvallo that his day shift supervisor tried to blackmail us if he hands over that tape."

Grissom feigned shock as he glanced at the woman he loved.  "Sara Sidle, who knew you had such a devious mind?"

"Nobody messes with me and my man," she responded with all seriousness.

~*~*~

Returning to the lab several hours later with evidence from Keri and the park in hand, Grissom and Sara were greeted by a receptionist with messages for them.  "Dr. Grissom, Ms. Sidle, Director Carvallo was looking for you earlier.  He waited for a bit but then went home when Ms. Willows said you wouldn't be back any time soon.  Um, he said he'd like to see you both in his office, first thing in the morning."

"Thanks, Sandy."

Continuing on toward the DNA lab, Sara observed quietly, "Well, I guess I wrong about Ecklie.  Damn!"

Sara did not know if it was a good thing or not that they ended up working in the lab for the remainder of their shift.  On the one hand, her mind frequently wandered to thoughts of the upcoming meeting with Carvallo.  She was sure she would have been able to keep her mind off it if she was in the field.  On the other hand, as long as they were not called out to a scene in the next hour or so, they would be able to simply walk to Carvallo's office at the appointed time.  Being out in the field with any of the other CSIs, Sara could not imagine how she and Grissom would explain their sudden departure.

Grissom worked in his office for the rest of the night.  While he wanted to spend the time working with Sara, he was afraid their conversation would repeatedly drift back to their situation if they were together.  Frankly, there was no more thinking to do on the issue, and he believed that any more time spent worrying about it would just lead to more stress.  Before they parted ways, he and Sara agreed that the fact that Carvallo already knew about their relationship would not change their approach significantly.  Grissom would still offer to step down as shift supervisor if necessary.  He just hoped it would be enough.  Carvallo was a hard man to predict.  While he could not fire them, he could make their professional lives miserable.  One or both of them could be demoted, Sara could be transferred to days, or suspended from fieldwork  Any of those things, if seized upon by a defense attorney, could potentially be used to damage their credibility on cases they had worked.

As Grissom and Sara walked the halls of CSI headquarters toward Lab Director Carvallo's office that morning, Sara mentally berated herself for craving nothing more than to grab Grissom's hand.  She was not exactly sure what she wanted to do with it, but there were fleeting thoughts of just pulling him out of the building and never turning back.  The rest of her, however, simply wanted to draw on his strength and offer him hers.

Grissom supposed they should be grateful that Carvallo did not keep them waiting.  They were ushered immediately into his office by his secretary.  Grissom allowed Sara to walk through the doorway first, giving him the opportunity to rest his hand lightly on the center of her back for a moment.  He wanted to remind her that they were together in this, regardless of the outcome.

Carvallo stood and shook hands with each of them as they took chairs in front of his desk.  When he sat, both criminalists noticed the tape directly in front of him.

Carvallo spoke first.  "I believe you know why you're here."

"I'm not sure that I do, Robert."  This was from Grissom, who was not about to be the first to show his hand.

"Then I'll spell it out for you."  He picked up the video and tapped his index finger on the long edge of it several times.  "It has been alleged that you, Shift Supervisor Grissom, and you, CSI Sidle, are involved in a sexual relationship."  When the criminalists remained silent, Carvallo continued, "Do either of you confirm or deny that?"

Sara spoke up next, "I don't think you can legally ask that question.  Sir."

"After viewing the evidence on this tape, I believe I already know the answer."

"Oh?  Does that tape show us having a 'sexual relationship?'"  Sara was becoming increasingly angry.  "If not, I'd suggest your 'evidence' is circumstantial, at best."

Grissom glanced at Sara.  He knew she was on her way to becoming irate, and that would not bode well for them; they needed to remain in control.  "Robert, neither Sara nor I are going to confirm or deny anything.  What we will say is that nothing that goes on outside of this lab has had a negative impact on the team or our ability to do our jobs."

"That may be the way you see it, Gil, but I can assure you, the Sheriff and I are acutely aware of the fact that you and CSI Sidle have opened this department up to tremendous embarrassment and liability."

"Sara and I have never done anything to compromise a case."  He let the offense he took be known.

"Whether or not that is true doesn't matter, Gil.  You know it as well as I do.  As soon as word of this gets out, every defense lawyer in Vegas is going to do cartwheels down the Strip.  They won't be able to keep the smiles off their faces as they rip your credibility to shreds on the stand."  Carvallo noticed Sara was about to speak, but he cut her off.  "Especially yours, CSI Sidle, since your career here has been built largely on CSI Grissom's recommendations and evaluations, all of which are now tainted."

It took every ounce of restraint Sara had to keep her voice modulated and remain seated.  "My record can stand on its own.  I have the highest solve rate of anyone on my team, and _that_ has nothing to do with what's written in my evaluations."

Not liking the direction this conversation was taking, Grissom allowed some of his anger to come through.  "Robert, my reviews of Sara's work have always been objective and accurate.  If I am forced to defend each and every one of them, I will."

"Well I'm certainly glad to hear that, because you're going to have to do a hell of a lot of defending of your actions from here on out."  Carvallo was tired of trying to keep his demeanor professional.  He had assumed the last person he would have to rip a new asshole one day would be Gil Grissom.  The man did not appear to have a life outside of this department and his bugs, and Carvallo resented the fact that his sexcapades were going to sully the good reputation of his lab.

That thought was the last straw.  His control slipped and he practically hissed, "What the hell were you thinking, _Doctor _Grissom?!  Or were you thinking with anything other than your - "  Realizing he had stepped over the line, Carvallo tried to bring it down a bit.  Taking a deep breath, he continued in a more reasonable tone of voice, "I just hope for your sake that whatever's going on between you two is worth it.  Did it not occur to you that it would be professional suicide to become involved with a subordinate?  Or how about the fact that you hand-picked her to come work here – did you even stop to think about how _that would look?  Explaining your reviews of CSI Sidle's work will be the easy part, I can promise that."_

Grissom's expression went to ice and he glared at his boss. "And I can promise that my career will thrive no matter where I choose to pursue it.  So I'll advise you now that if you can't keep your comments both productive and professional, I _will walk."  He continued to hold Carvallo's gaze until he was sure the lab director knew he was serious._

Nodding his head slightly in understanding, Carvallo proceeded to the next topic.  "I think it would be best right now to consider what kind of damage control needs to be implemented in order to diminish the appearance of impropriety once word of this leaks beyond the boundaries of this office."

"_If_ word gets out.  It doesn't have to.  Couldn't you just order Ecklie to keep his mouth shut?"  This was from Sara, who was still mildly surprised by Grissom's show of testosterone in his threat to quit.

"And implicate myself in a cover-up?"  He paused and looked at them.  Grissom got the distinct impression that, despite the use of the inflammatory words, that's just the way this would have played out if Ecklie had stumbled across them in person and did not have their images trapped forever on celluloid.

"That would be all well and good, Ms. Sidle, if evidence, however circumstantial, did not exist.  It could easily be chalked up to baseless suspicion, or even professional jealousy, knowing what I do about Conrad Ecklie.  Unfortunately for you two, that is not the case.  As such, starting immediately, CSI Sidle will be transferred to the day shift so as to avoid any further threat of misconduct."

Grissom's calm voice belied his rising pulse. "Robert, may I suggest that it would be less disruptive to both shifts for me to step down from my supervisory position?"

Their hopes soared as Carvallo considered the proposition.  Shaking his head, he finally replied, "I'm afraid not.  That would do nothing to assuage the unavoidable accusations that you two may become…distracted at a crime scene and miss a key piece of evidence, or conduct an analysis incorrectly."

"That's ridiculous!  If you believe that, you should be firing us -"

"Trust me, if as Ms. Sidle noted herself, your records could not stand up on their own, that's exactly what I would be forced to do."  Then a regretful smile appeared at the irony of the situation.  "Besides, if you stepped down as shift supervisor, your replacement would most likely be CSI Sidle.  Again, no real solution."  He let out a sigh.  "For what it's worth, I am sorry to have to break up such a successful team."

"I don't mean this to sound like a threat Robert, but if Sara is forced to change shifts, I will resign from the lab."  Grissom was remarkably calm as he made this proclamation.  While he was willing to do this for Sara, he did not think it would come to that.  Aside from his brief explosion, Carvallo had given them every indication that he valued both of their contributions to the lab and was loathe to bend to Ecklie's wishes.  Grissom was gambling on the belief that their boss would ultimately back down, particularly if he was between a rock and a hard place.  At least then he could justify his actions, or lack thereof, to the Sheriff.

Exhausted from this encounter, Carvallo put his head in his hand and sighed.  "And exactly what would that accomplish, Gil?"

"Everything.  You'd avoid your publicity scandal and Sara could stay on graveyard."

"This is bullshit!  You do realize that's exactly what Ecklie wants, don't you?"  While she directed her comments at the lab director, Sara did not know who she was more upset with just then, Grissom or Carvallo.  She was beginning to panic at the thought that either she would move to days or Grissom would leave the job he loved for her.  Sara felt the last vestiges of her self control fray and snap.  And with it came a sudden clarity, a recollection of the moment that seemed so long ago now.  She took a few deep breaths, attempting to organize her thoughts as she steadied her nerves.

Calmly, she continued, "Did you know he came to us first?  That he offered to 'forget about' the tape if Grissom and I…cooperated with him?"

"Oh?"  Grissom and Sara could both see the spark of interest in Carvallo's eyes.  "And what sort of cooperation was Ecklie looking for?"

"He wanted Sara to switch to days and me to support him in his bid for your position."  Grissom could see where Sara was going, but was not sure he agreed with her tactics.  What good would it do now to point the finger back at Ecklie?  Was she trying to bring him down with them?   He was afraid that would backfire on them.

"As interesting as that sounds, with no proof, it falls under the guise of the baseless suspicion I mentioned before.  Worse yet, it may look as if you are being vindictive and are attempting to destroy the reputation of the man responsible for turning you in."

Sara looked at Grissom and gave him a slow smile.  Turning to Carvallo, she asked, "May I make a call?"

Confused by the question and the change in her mood, Carvallo agreed and pushed his desk phone toward her.  Both men remained silent as they watched Sara punch a series of numbers, listen, then hit a few more.  She closed her eyes as she concentrated on what she was listening to.  Apparently satisfied, she let out a sigh and opened her eyes, pinning Grissom with a look he thought reflected pure joy.

She held the handset out to Carvallo. "I think you might be interested in this, sir."

Sara's attention stayed on the lab director until she was certain he understood what he was hearing.  The small smile on his face was all the indication she needed.  Feeling Grissom's hand on her elbow, she followed him to the other side of the office.

"What's going on?"  For the life of him, Gil Grissom could not figure out what had just transpired.

"Tell me you love me," she whispered.  She was practically bubbling, and had a devilish gleam in her eyes.

"What?"  Grissom was thoroughly confused now.

"Tell me you love me _and_ that I'm brilliant."

Casting a glance at Carvallo, he whispered back, "I love you and you're brilliant.  And I'd kiss you right here if I believed in pushing our luck.  Now will you please tell me what that was all about?"

"That was about me being an idiot and completely forgetting in the midst of the missing person case that the solution to our problem was in my apartment the entire time.  And luck had nothing to do with it – you should know that, Gil.  Scientists don't believe in luck."

"Sara, what are you talking about?"

"Remember I told you that I saw you as I was heading toward Ecklie's office, and that I was about to call you when he saw me?"

"Yes."

"I put two and two together:  you seemed upset and had recently been with Ecklie, and he seemed awfully anxious to get me into his office before I could use the phone.  I didn't exactly come up with four, but I was suspicious enough to dial my home number and let my digital answering machine record our conversation."

Grissom was dumbstruck.  He stared at Sara, his mouth agape, then looked at Carvallo, who was now busily jotting notes as he kept the phone pressed tightly to his ear.  "That's what he's listening to."  This was not a question.

Sara nodded, the smile never leaving her face.

Their attention was drawn to Carvallo as he called Sara over.  "Make sure you save this before I hang up."

Punching one more number, she asked, "When would you like your own copy?"

"As soon as possible.  I think I'll have a talk with shift supervisor Ecklie in the meantime."

~*~*~

Returning to Carvallo's office little more than two hours later with the recoding in hand, Grissom and Sara were once again escorted into his inner sanctum.

Neither was surprised to see Ecklie there, looking very unhappy.

"Hey Eck, long time no see!"  Sara tried her best to be annoyingly chipper.

Grissom simply nodded and said, "Conrad."

Ecklie did not respond before Director Carvallo invited the recent arrivals to sit.

"I'm going to cut to the chase here, since enough time has already been wasted on this matter.  Shift Supervisor Ecklie has been told of the direct evidence of his blackmail attempt that CSI Sidle presented to me."  Directing his glare at Ecklie, Carvallo asked, "Would you like an opportunity to examine that evidence yourself?"

Ecklie declined.

Sara pulled a disk from her bag and held it up.  "Are you sure, Eck?  It's the least we could do, really, after you so kindly showed us the video tape."  When Ecklie remained silent, Sara placed the sound recording on Carvallo's desk.

"In light of said evidence, I should demote, or perhaps even fire CSI Ecklie.  Combined with the transfer of CSI Sidle to the day shift, however, I feel it would be too much of a disruption, and for minimal effect.  Therefore, there will be no changes in staffing at this time."

Sara let out her sigh as quietly as possible.  Sneaking a glance at Grissom, she noticed his posture become subtly more relaxed.

"Unless CSI Sidle would like to file a complaint against CSI Ecklie," he paused to give Sara the opportunity to say something.  When she shook her head, he continued, "I am ordering everyone to cease and desist.  There will be no leaks of _any_ of this information.  You will all continue to do your jobs while you are here and keep any 'extracurricular activities' away from this lab.  I _will not have my lab exposed to any further risk of negative publicity.  Is that understood?"  Carvallo made eye contact with the three CSIs in front of him, earning some form of acknowledgement from each._

Standing up to indicate that the meeting was over, Carvallo added, "If word of this gets out, I will find the source and put a permanent end to it, professionally speaking."

The CSIs stood, Sara and Grissom giving Ecklie a wide berth as he made a bee-line for the door.  They stopped when Carvallo spoke again, "I understand from your conversation with Ecklie that he did not suspect anything prior to stumbling across that video."

"No one does, Robert," Grissom assured him.

"Make sure you keep it that way.  You might not be so clever next time."

Nodding, they left the office.

~*~*~

"Did you see the look on Ecklie's face when we came in?  I don't know who he wanted to kill more, us or Carvallo."  Sara was still giddy with relief at the way the meetings went.

"You can bet Ecklie got quite the earful from Carvallo regarding his behavior while we were gone," Grissom commented as he drove them back to his place.

"I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation."

"I'm sure Ecklie was thinking the same thing about us earlier today.  By the way, I've decided you're not brilliant after all – genius is a much better word to describe what you pulled off."

Giving him her Sara Smile for the accolade, it turned into a wince moments later.  "I still can't believe I didn't think of it sooner."

"A very wise woman once told me that hindsight is twenty-twenty."  He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  "The important thing is that you thought to record the conversation in the first place.  You can hardly be blamed for forgetting about it when we spent the majority of the next twenty four hours looking for a missing girl.  You put your own problems on the backburner and thought of the victim first.  There's nothing shameful in that, Sara."

"I suppose.  Thanks."  She rubbed her thumb along the side of his.  Now that the rush of relief was out of her system, Sara was able to look back on the morning with a little more solemnity.  "You know, part of me was actually glad that this whole thing was about to be out in the open.  Had it worked out the way we'd hoped, we wouldn't have to sneak around anymore."

Grissom smirked.  "I thought it didn't bother you, as long as I was the reward."

Recalling the conversation they'd had only five days before on their way to the winery, she clarified.  "It doesn't, because the end justifies the means, in my opinion.  If I have to lie to the others in order to maintain this relationship with you, then I'll do it and not feel guilty about it.  But do I _want it to have to be that way?  Not really.  Not anymore."_

Catching the expression on her face, Grissom felt a brief moment of alarm that Sara was planning to "out" their relationship despite Carvallo's warning.  "Sara, you heard what Carvallo said, didn't you?  We need to continue to keep this quiet, at least for now."

On a sigh, she nearly whined.  "Yeah, I heard him – but I don't like it." She paused for a moment and cocked her head, obviously in thought.  "That's not true, actually.  I think I just resent being told what we can and can't do with our relationship.  If we wanted to tell our friends, we should be able to tell our friends."  Another sigh.  "I guess I just feel like we've been through all this crap for the past few days and we're no better off."

"That's not necessarily accurate, Sara.  Carvallo knows about us, and we have his tacit approval.  And Ecklie is on a leash for the time being.  I prefer to think of it as closing a circle.  One more challenge overcome."

Now it was Sara's jaw that dropped.  That was the third time in the past few minutes Grissom had reminded her of her own words.  "What?  Now _you're_ recording everything _I_ say?"

She let out a small laugh as he responded by kissing the back of her hand.

"Yeah, something like that – you know I look at everything as a learning experience."

"Mmm, true."  She winked at him.  "And as soon as we get home, I think we need to have an experience we'll never forget."

Sara chuckled when Grissom's only response was to press a little harder on the accelerator.

Fin


End file.
